The Ties That Bind
by willoffire123
Summary: Reggie Rowe hated Bio-Terrorists. Bio-Terrorists killed his parents. But when his brother Delsin, a newly-awakened 'conduit' is arrested by the D.U.P, Reggie must go against all his morals to team up with two Bio-Terrorists to rescue his brother. And if he doesn't? Delsin, his baby brother, is going in a cage for the rest of his life.
1. Seattle Rain

**Willoffire123: You'll never guess what I'm doing while I'm typing this.**

**Eugene: Saving Conduits?**

**Fetch: Busting Drug Lords?**

**Delsin: Tagging as many buildings as possible?**

**Reggie: Where the hell are we?**

**Willoffire123: Well at least SOMEONE here has common sense. Reggie, I have no idea where we are.**

**Reggie: Who ARE you?**

**Willoffire123: Can you not read the text boxes? The name's Willoffire123! Now shut up and let Eugene do his thing!**

**Eugene: What thing?**

**Willoffire123: The thing we practiced.**

**Eugene: Oh yeah! Willoffire123 doesn't own inFAMOUS.**

**Willoffire123: Splendid! On with the chapter!**

* * *

Fetch

Seattle was always known for being a rainy place.

Fetch Walker didn't know what it was that made Seattle have such terrible weather, but like clockwork, the rain came at least twice a week.

Like that day, for example.

It hadn't been a particularly interesting day. Fetch had decided she wanted to learn how to fish, so she made her way down to the docks to rent a boat and a pole. Sadly, the shriveled old man that smelled like grease and fish refused to let her rent a boat without a fishing license. Normally, Fetch would have gladly stolen what she needed instead, but she wasn't about to make a scene, not when the D.U.P were out looking for her.

The Department of Unified Protection was kind of like the police force, but they were sworn to defend the public against _special _people.

Fetch smiled to herself. Sitting down on the edge of the docks, she concentrated and flicked a ball of neon light into the water with her fingers. The ball sank to the bottom, attracting a school of curious fish.

Yeah, people like Fetch.

Fetch was known as a conduit; someone who could harness and manipulate a certain element or force. Hers was neon.

The D.U.P didn't like people like her. Their job was to round up people like her and lock them up in their special prison called 'Curden Cay'.

Fetch had been there before, and she definitely preferred freedom. So no, she did not want to cause a scene with the harbor master; she was going to keep her head down.

"Fetch!"

"Abigail!"

Damn, it wasn't working.

She turned from her fascinating contemplation of her fish to find Eugene jogging to meet her. Eugene may have been a scrawny nerd, but that scrawny nerd was a conduit with the power of video. She'd seen what he could do back when they were still cellmates in Curden Cay, and knew that same scrawny nerd was perfectly capable of leveling all of Seattle.

With him, to her surprise, was Reggie Rowe, the normal cop who wanted to lock her up.

"What do you want, Eugene?" she demanded. "And how the hell do you know him?"

Reggie transferred his gun to his jacket pocket, protecting it from the rain. "Here isn't a good place to discuss this," said cop-man. "We're too exposed."

"But...it's raining," said Eugene.

"You're confusing rain with fog," said Reggie. "This is the kind of thing no one can overhear."

"Have it your way," said Fetch. She didn't have anything better to do, anyway; she might as well see what cop-man and gamer nerd wanted. "Eugene, the roof of that apartment complex there."

"I got you," said Eugene. First checking for any signs of the D.U.P, Eugene transformed into his winged-angel, warlord, _thing_, Fetch wasn't really sure what it was, and soared to her chosen rooftop.

She grabbed Reggie by the arm. "You better not barf on me."

"What-," started Reggie.

She didn't let him finish, turning both of them into pure neon as she light dashed up to the rooftop to meet Eugene.

Reggie staggered, but regained his composure fairly quickly.

"DON'T," he started. "Do that again without warning."

"Chicken," Fetch snorted. "Anyway, what do you two want? I'm a busy girl."

She wasn't, really, but it was always good to _make _people think that she was busier than she actually was.

"It's Delsin," Eugene blurted.

Fetch blinked. Delsin Rowe was the new conduit in her life with the power of smoke. Technically it wasn't _his _power by birth, but he could absorb the powers of other conduits.

What Fetch wouldn't give to be able to fly like Eugene, or even to have his machine-gun video blast.

But that was beside the point. Delsin was Reggie's younger brother. The two had arrived in Seattle almost two weeks ago, when Delsin had revealed how he'd absorbed the power of smoke from Hank, Fetch and Eugene's other cellmate, and come with Reggie to Seattle to save their Native American tribe, the Akomish.

That still didn't explain Eugene though.

"Eugene, how do you know Delsin?" asked Fetch, slowly backing up.

"Fetch, you can still trust me!" he insisted.

"You'd better," said Reggie. "Because if what he's saying is true, much as I _loathe _to admit it, Delsin's in trouble and I need your help to save my brother."

Fetch sighed. She already missed her boring day. "Alright, Eugene. Why don't you start from the beginning?"

* * *

Delsin

Delsin Rowe was a proud person.

He took pride in his family. He took pride in his art. He especially took pride in his powers.

But as he watched his enormous D.U.P opponent crumble to the ground while he was ready to collapse, and he saw Brooke Augustine, the concrete conduit at the head of the D.U.P, advancing on him, he began to think that maybe he was in over his head.

Just a little bit, though.

"So I know I lied about the whole neon thing," he told her, attempting an air of non-chalance. "But look, it would save both of us a lot of time if you would just let me leech a little power off you. Then, you'll never have to see me again."

The red-haired demon chuckled. "You want me to just _give _you my power?"

"Well, not enough to destroy bridges, but enough to pull the concrete daggers out of my friends, yeah!" Delsin said hotly.

Oh bad move, Delsin, bad move.

"I have a better idea," said Augustine. With a flick of her hand, Delsin's leg was encased in concrete, the concrete spreading quickly up his right side. "Since you'd be useless to me back in your little hovel, how about you stay here, with me?"

Delsin tried to remain calm. He knew that as soon as he showed her any sign of weakness, she'd already won. And so, even though his situation looked bleak, he retained his mask of composure. "I think I liked my idea better."

And with his remaining arm, he lunged for Augustine's hand. But with the entire right side of his body being encased in concrete, mobility was proving more and more difficult. She avoided his grab easily, instead grabbing his arm.

"Delsin, you disappoint me," she said coldly. Delsin howled in pain as she jammed a concrete dagger through his hand. Delsin was in so much pain that he barely noticed more D.U.P agents surrounding them faster than the concrete encasing his body. One of them snapped something around his neck.

"What did you just do to me?" he growled. By now, the concrete was up to his neck. Yup, his plans for escape were looking pretty bleak.

"I made you more compliant," said Augustine. Whatever they'd put on his neck, Delsin couldn't see it anymore; the concrete had encased everything except his face now.

He didn't want to die like Hank did.

But was he dying? Augustine seemed to want him alive for something.

Dying, kidnapping, both seemed pretty similar to him at that moment.

The real frustrating part, in Delsin's opinion, anyway, was that Augustine was the last face he saw. She got right in his, saying "I think, given time, you'll come to love your new home, Delsin Rowe."

Then, the concrete covered his face, leaving Delsin alone with his pain in his concrete prison.

* * *

Eugene

When Eugene saw Augustine and her troops load Delsin up into their convoy and drive into Augustine's heavily-fortified, conduit-proof, concrete bridge-point base before his angel could swoop in and fly Delsin to safety, he cursed. He even banged a fist on his precious keyboard.

Then, he calmed down enough to think. Delsin Rowe was too important to remain with Augustine. Besides the fact that no conduit should ever have to go through what Eugene did when in her prison, Delsin Rowe had the power to get the public, _normal _people to like him, and that couldn't go to waste.

But what was he to do?

Eugene glanced at a screen showing week-old footage of a Delsin sighting. Delsin sprinted down the street with another Native-American man. The man had a pistol strapped to his waist and a sheriff's badge on his arm.

Reggie Rowe, the computer said. Delsin's older brother.

Eugene slung his backpack over his shoulder and climbed out of his den. He had a house call to make.

* * *

Reggie

Reggie still felt numb from the first time Eugene had told him the story while at Reggie's gunpoint, but hearing it again still didn't hurt any less.

"Well, you wanted my help, now you got it," said Abigail. "D's never been in prison before; we need to get him out of there before he's seriously fucked up."

"Trust me, _Abigail_," Reggie said pointedly, making her scowl. "My brother's been in and out of prison ever since he turned 18."

"Hey, powerless," said Abigail. "Do you want us to save him, or not?"

"I'm just saying that I know my brother better than either of you," Reggie insisted. "And he has been in prison before."

"Not Curden Cay," Eugene said darkly.

Reggie's heart sank. Of course the prison built for meta-humans would be more dangerous than the precinct in Salmon Bay, why didn't he make the connection?

To Abigail's credit, she tried to remain optimistic. "We don't necessarily know he's been taken there."

"Fetch, you know as well as I do that Augustine would want a conduit as powerful as Delsin right under her nose to make sure she doesn't lose him," said Eugene.

"I never said he wasn't going to Curden Cay," said Abigail.

"But we need to evaluate all possibilities here," Reggie picked up, earning a grateful look from Abigail.

At that moment, Reggie's phone rang. Reggie told the other two to give him a moment, so he moved to the other side of the roof and looked at the caller ID.

It was Betty.

Some part of him had been secretly hoping for it to be Delsin, but he now knew the odds of that to be second to none. He sighed, and answered the call.

"Hi Betty."

"_Reggie, dear! How are you?" _Betty said warmly. _"Are you having fun? The last time I called, Delsin said the two of you were at the Space Needle."_

Reggie gulped. It killed him to have to lie to Betty, the woman who took them in when her daughter and son-in-law, Reggie and Delsin's parents, were killed in a bio-terrorist accident.

But he had to. If he didn't, he'd be forced to return to the tribe without Delsin.

That wasn't an option.

"Yeah! We're having so much fun. We're down on the docks now. Delsin said he needed Wifi for something so he said he was going to the cafe down the street."

"_So Delsin does have his phone?" _asked Betty, suddenly sounding worried. _"I tried calling him, but there was no answer."_

"His phone's been dead all day, Betty," said Reggie, ashamed of his own skill at lying to a woman he called family. "The café has computers; he said he needed to use one."

"_Oh, okay," _said Betty, sighing in relief. _"That makes sense. He's probably waiting for an e-mail. Today's the big day, after all."_

Reggie frowned. "Am I missing something here?"  
He heard Betty gasp. _"Oh, I wasn't supposed to say anything! Delsin wanted it to be a surprise."_

"He wanted what to be a surprise?" demanded Reggie.

"_I must say, when I first called Delsin and said that I'd submitted an application for him, he was very upset. But after a while, he seemed to really like the idea!"_

"Betty," Reggie said patiently. "What idea?"

Betty sighed. _" I suppose the cat's out of the bag now, anyway. But you'll have to ask Delsin yourself, dear. He made me promise not to tell you until he'd heard back from them and made up his mind. But when you do, tell Delsin they said they're willing to give him one, but they want a portfolio of his work."_

Reggie was very confused, but he promised Betty he would relay the message and he hung up.

"Who was that?"

The two bio-terrorists had slowly edged their way towards him while he was on the phone with Betty.

"None of your business," said Reggie, then, seeing the looks on their faces, added "Just family."

"You know," said Eugene. "You and Delsin seem to be able to find each other with your phones pretty easily."

"Yeah, we have a GPS link," said Reggie. Then it hit him.

"So our first step is to find Delsin's phone," said Abigail, picking up on their train of thought.

"Oh that's easy," said Eugene. "It's probably still on the bridge where she grabbed him."

"Let's get moving," Reggie said grimly. "And this time, I'm going with Eugene."

* * *

**Willoffire123: This is a bad idea.**

**Reggie: I get the feeling you say that a lot. And what the hell'd you do with my brother?**

**Willoffire123: Hey! I didn't do it! Augustine did! And you know that if Eugene hadn't gotten there in time in the game, Delsin's arrest would totally be cannon.**

**Augustine: Delsin insists on me saying that would never happen.**

**Reggie: Give back my brother!**

**Willoffire123: That will have to wait.**

**Augustine: Until next time, then.**


	2. Paper Chains

**Willoffire123: Welcome back! We have a special guest here today. Care to say hello?**

**Betty: Hi everyone!**

**Willoffire123: So Betty, what is this secret you have with Delsin?**

**Betty: Sorry, I'm sworn to secrecy.**

**Augustine: Delsin insists on me saying thank you.**

**Willoffire123: Now what was it I insist on you saying?**

**Augustine: Willoffire123 doesn't own inFAMOUS: Second Son. **

**Willoffire123: Thank you.**

**Betty: I'm not really sure what's going on, but I've been told to say on with the chapter!**

* * *

Delsin

Delsin woke feeling numb and exhausted. His vision wasn't doing him any favors either; his head swam in pain.

That should have been his first red flag, but he was so out of it, someone could put a bullet through his skull and he wouldn't notice until he was dead.

He was so disoriented; it took him a full five minutes to realize he was suspended in mid-air, the chains attached to his cuffs hanging him just above the ground.

Wait…chains.

He was too disoriented to even feel panicked at his situation.

It was so unfair.

Glancing down, he saw his ankles cuffed, the attached chains dead-bolted to the ground.

Oh that _sucked_.

"_Prisoner 028-948-7654. Stand by for testing."_

What was that supposed to mean? He couldn't care enough; his head hurt too much.

That should have been his second red flag. Thanks to his fast healing, he shouldn't still feel pain.

Before he could process this any further, his dimly-lit room was flooded with light. Fighting through his blurring vision, he saw a viewing room above his head, Augustine standing behind her agents, observing him like a vulture observes its prey before moving in for the kill.

"_You're awake," _she said into a microphone. _"I'm glad."_

Delsin decided against speaking; not until he was sure she wouldn't reveal anything on her own.

"_How's your hand?"_

He hadn't noticed before, he was so focused on his head, but he could still feel the concrete dagger stuck in his right palm.

Damn, that hurt.

Augustine must have seen his discomfort, because she chuckled softly, saying _"Yeah, I'm told that hurts."_

More silence.

"_I wouldn't try using your powers if I were you," _said Augustine. _"We've removed all traces of smoke and neon within a ten-mile radius. If you try draining either, it'll dry you up faster."_

Delsin ignored her. Maybe if he did that long enough, she'd let him go home.

Wait, what?

"What did you do to me?" he croaked.

"_So you aren't mute," _said Augustine. _"Good; the drugs sometimes do that."_

Delsin's blood boiled. "Drugs?"

"_The collar around your neck, boy," _said Augustine. _"It administers a regular dose of X__3__, which neutralizes all your powers."_

She flicked her hand and Delsin howled in pain, feeling a new concrete dagger pierce through his left hand to match the one in his right hand.

"_Including your fast-healing. But that's not all this collar does. It's got capsules on it for any drug I want. All I have to do is press a button, and it's injected into your system. Of course, you probably haven't absorbed any of this," _said Augustine, still in that monotonous voice. _"The levels of eccaine in your system are high enough to render you a vegetable; it's impressive you're still awake and coherent enough to speak."_

Maybe it was the drugs' affect slowly waning, but at that moment, Delsin felt true despair. But at least maybe, if he gained some of his bearings, he could anticipate how Reggie was planning to rescue him, and make Reggie's job a little easier.

And so, Delsin pushed past the drug-induced haze and the pain to keep using his dying voice. "Where am I, Augustine?"

"_Very good," _said Augustine, as if Delsin had passed a test. _"You'll assume that we are currently in Curden Cay, of course."_

Delsin's heart sank. How was he supposed to break out of the top conduit-holding facility in the world? Fetch, Hank and that other kid only escaped once they were out of the fortress and on their way to a military base.

"_But you're much too special for that, Delsin Rowe," _said Augustine. _"So you'll be pleased to know that you have us all to yourself here."_

"_Prisoner 028-948-7654, there are four orderlies entering your room. Any act of aggression will be subdued immediately," _said one of the DUPs at the soundboard with Augustine.

Sure enough, Delsin could see four men in scrubs and goggles entering his room, wheeling in a gurney.

"_Your orders are to prep Mr. Rowe for surgery," _Augustine told them.

If he wasn't already restrained, Delsin would have froze. The un-realness of the entire ordeal left him when the orderlies unchained him. He fell into their arms, limper than a rag doll, thanks to his drug-collar and the concrete piercings in his palms, remaining limp as they laid him on the gurney and bound his hands and feet to leather restraints.

"_Calm, Mr. Rowe," _said Augustine, who must have his vitals monitored with that damned collar. _"We are simply going to find out what makes you tick; nothing more, nothing less."_

That really wasn't helping.

As they wheeled him off to be dissected, Delsin paid absolutely no attention to the details of the heavily guarded fortress around him, instead thinking back to a call he had earlier with Betty.

The lights dimmed as they entered what must've been an operating room. Before he could even try to protest, one man put an oxygen mask over Delsin's face, the other injecting something into his arm.

"Dude, isn't that what the collar's for?" he croaked feebly.

They ignored him. Even with all the other drugs in his system, Delsin could feel the anesthetic already working, his world growing dimmer.

He tried to picture Betty's voice in his mind, recreating their phone conversation.

Before he slipped into oblivion, the feeling of despair gifted him with one last thought.

He could forget about going to Art School now.

* * *

Reggie

Reggie was glad he rode with Eugene this time. It gave him the chance for an aerial view of the downtown bridge when the trio arrived.

Delsin's phone lay on the cracked pavement, flashing dimly to signal a received message. Reggie scooped it up upon landing.

"Well, so the phone's a no-go," said Abigail. "Now what?"

Reggie pocketed the phone and turned back to the other two. "Now, we see if we can establish a link inside Augustine's forces."

"How are we supposed to do that?" demanded Eugene.

"Oh, that's easy," said a soft voice, floating towards them on the breeze. A flurry of paper scraps blew into a whirlwind in front of them, solidifying into a girl in front of Reggie's very eyes.

Abigail gasped.

"No way…"said Eugene. "Celia?"

Celia pushed up her paper-rabbit mask and regarded Reggie with big, brown eyes. "That's me."

"You're supposed to be dead," said Abigail. "You killed yourself with your own powers. We _saw _the body."

"You saw the body of the dead guard I swapped places with," Celia said softly. "It was all part of Augustine's plan for my freedom." She turned back to Reggie. "Augustine wanted me on the outside as her agent in Seattle, so she orchestrated my escape. But I still work for her."

"You're that girl," Reggie guessed. "Delsin told me stories, rumors he heard. You were the first Augustine took into Curden Cay."

Celia nodded. "On her orders, I've been watching Delsin closely over the past few weeks. He's taught me that nobody can just _give _you your freedom; you have to _take _it." She pointed at the door where an armored vehicle had taken away Delsin in chains. "Now, I want to help Delsin take back his'"

Reggie shared a look with Abigail and Eugene. Abigail still looked startled at Celia's presence, but Eugene gave him a nod.

"Alright then," said Reggie, re-holstering his gun. "So you're going to help rescue my baby brother? Let's hear it."

* * *

**Willoffire123: Done with the chapter!**

**Reggie: But-**

**Willoffire123: NO! I have an AP exam tomorrow morning, AND I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS RIGHT NOW.**

**Eugene: *Gulp!***

**Celia: Until next time…**


	3. Of Plans and Vans

**Willoffire123: Oh what a beautiful morning~**

**Eugene: Oh what a beautiful day~**

**Fetch: I got a wonderful feeling~**

**Reggie: Everything's going my way!**

**Augustine: You better get back to work if you ever want to see Delsin again.**

**Reggie: She has a point you know, even if she is a horrible human being.**

**Fetch: Willoffire123 doesn't own inFAMOUS: Second Son.**

**Willoffire123: *sob* I'm so proud of you guys! You're growing up!**

**Reggie: Okay…on with the chapter before anything even weirder happens.**

* * *

Fetch

It was impossible.

Fetch _knew _it couldn't be Celia sitting in front of her, on her couch, in her apartment, explaining how to save her friend.

Celia was supposed to be dead.

Apparently, Augustine had the power to defy the laws of nature too.

So how in the hell were they supposed to save Delsin?

"Fetch?" asked Celia, bringing Fetch out of her deep thought.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "What were you saying?"  
"Celia was saying that she knows where Delsin is," said Eugene.

"And it isn't Curden Cay," said Reggie, his face white. Fetch didn't like Reggie. Reggie didn't like Fetch. It was a mutual understanding. After all, Reggie tried to put Fetch in a cage when they first met which, now that Fetch thought about it, was pretty reasonable in Reggie's eyes; he'd arrived on the scene to find his brother at death's door thanks to another conduit. If she found her brother looking like _that _after fighting a conduit, which was what she later found out from Delsin to be what killed their parents, she'd probably have done much worse than threaten to put the conduit in a cage.

So yeah, she was helping Reggie find his brother and her best friend, but there was no way in hell she was going anywhere near him and his handcuffs.

"Fetch, focus," said Celia. Fetch blinked. She'd forgotten how commanding Celia's quiet voice could be.

"Sorry," she said again. "So, if he isn't in Curden Cay, where is he?"

"In a holding facility out on the water," said Celia. "It's a fortress only accessible by air travel, but there's an underground passage that Augustine uses to get vehicles in and out of the base."

"I don't get it," said Fetch. "Delsin's a powerful conduit. Curden Cay's a maximum-holding facility _designed _to hold all kinds of conduits. Why isn't he there?"

"It's because Delsin is so powerful that Augustine didn't send him to Curden Cay," said Celia, fixing her eyes on Reggie. "Delsin was born with the ability to absorb the powers of other conduits. What would happen if Augustine were to send him to Curden Cay, with hundreds of other conduits? One slip up, and Delsin has enough powers to essentially become a God."

Reggie pursed his lips together. "So she's keeping him in isolation."

"Which just makes our job harder," Fetch said quickly. She didn't want to get Reggie's hopes up for an easy rescue.

"She's right," said Eugene. "It might not be Curden Cay, but we still have to break into a maximum security fortress to rescue the only prisoner there: the one all their attention is focused on."

"Which means we're going to need Delsin's help to break him out," said Reggie. "Let's take inventory. We're up against a legion of concrete D.U.P agents and the concrete queen herself, and we've got three conduits and me to fight with. How useful is everyone's powers against concrete?"

"We're all powerful enough to slash through any D.U.P agent's attacks," Fetch informed him. "The important thing is being able to escape when they try and shackle you to the ground with concrete."

"You're both insane if you think we can storm that fortress head on, take on every agent in there with Augustine, and still get out alive with Delsin," said Eugene.

"Eugene is right," said Celia. "We'll need a less conventional way."

"Any ideas, then?" asked Reggie. "We're all ears."

Fetch could see the gears turning in her friend's head. Like her element, Celia could change direction easily, going against her previous trajectory thanks a simple gust of wind. And with that simple gust of wind, she came up with a new plan.

"We'll need to mobilize into groups," she said at last. "Fetch and Eugene, Augustine may have let you loose in Seattle on purpose, but infiltrating her base is equivalent to asking for recapture. You two will be causing diversions outside the fortress."

"I'm going to gloss over that little Augustine fact for now," Fetch informed her, biting back her shock. "What about you and Reggie?"

"Oh that's easy," said Celia with a small smile. "Reggie said it before I'd even made myself known to you. We need a man on the inside. In our case, it'll be two men."

"That seems risky to me," said Reggie.

"For once, I have to agree with powerless over here," said Fetch. "What if she recognizes him?"

"But Reggie," said Eugene. "Have you ever actually _met _Augustine? Has she ever seen your face?"

"She'll know you by association with Delsin," said Celia. "You and Fetch are probably the subjects of her tests."

"What kind of tests?" asked Reggie, going pale again.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Fetch asked him. She may not have liked the guy, but she could see that Reggie was very worried for his brother. Knowing what Augustine was doing to him at that very moment would kill him.

Err. So to speak.

"Celia, Abigail, Eugene," said Reggie, biting back that whole 'I'm-about-to-vomit' look. "What is that witch doing to my brother?"

* * *

Delsin

Delsin was getting really tired of being knocked unconscious.

He woke to the sound of whirring somewhere above his head.

His vision was blurry, his chest ached, his hands and feet were in agony and he felt like there was boiling acid in his stomach.

He decided to focus on the light surrounding him that didn't seem unnatural. And then, his vision cleared enough to show him that escape on his own was going to be damn near impossible.

He seemed to be in a cell that looked like a drop capsule. He was, once again, chained by his still pierced hands to the celling, and his newly pierced feet were chained to the floor. Wait, pierced feet?

Delsin couldn't even cry out in pain at the new sensation of agony in his feet; his mouth tasted like plastic.

The thing that sold Delsin on the whole 'not-escaping' thing was that the walls and the floors of his capsule were made of glass, allowing him to see the ocean churning several hundred feet below him. In front of him, in the near-to-far distance, he could see part of the rest of the building. If his vision were to clear up entirely, he would be able to see, through a window, D.U.P troopers going about their business.

"What's up, lil' brother?"

Delsin almost puked. He thrashed violently, looking for the source of his brother, Reggie's voice, but only succeeded in making himself very, very tired.

"Take it easy, Delsin, you just came out of surgery an hour ago. It's a miracle the antisthetic wore off you so quickly."

Delsin snorted. "You'd think not, considering this fucking drug collar they've got on me."

Then it hit him. He had surgery? What for? Was that why his insides felt like lava? Why wasn't Reggie doing anything about it? For that matter, why hadn't Reggie set him loose yet?

"Easy there, little brother," Reggie said again, making no move to help him. At least, as far as Delsin could see. "You're just going to rip out your stitches. Now, Augustine knows that something went wrong with the surgery, so she's sent for a doctor from a hospital down in San Francisco. He should be here in an hour or two."

"Reggie, I-,"

"I'm sorry, Delsin," said Reggie. "I can't let you loose right now; you're a danger to us normal people."

Delsin felt his heart freeze. Then, by some miracle, his drug-addled brain was able to process something.

"You're not Reggie," he croaked. "You're not my brother."

At that point, Delsin blocked out everything this 'not-Reggie' impersonation was saying by repeating "You're not Reggie" over and over and over again.

After awhile, his collar shocked him into silence.

"_Very good, Mr. Rowe," _came the voice of Augustine from a speaker somewhere above his head. _"We stopped feeding you your brother's voice awhile ago; you just kept going."_

"I wanna go home," Delsin muttered.

"_What was that, Mr. Rowe?" _Augustine asked innocently. _"We didn't quite hear you."_

Delsin was too tired to dignify that with an answer. His head spun violently, his hands and feet throbbed in agony, his chest became uncomfortably tight, and his stomach churned up a storm.

"_Mr. Rowe?"_

In response, Delsin threw up everything left in his stomach, the vomit splattering the glass for the row of researchers Delsin knew were just outside his line of vision to study, looking down at his air capsule as if he were their test subject.

"You are their test subject, idiot," he muttered.

"_Delsin, I need you to breathe for me," _said Augustine, sounding uncharacteristically worried. _"The orderlies are on their way, but you need to hold out until then."_

Delsin gasped, desperately gulping at air, trying to force it down his lungs. But they were losing space, and fast, thanks to his constricting chest. The last thing he remembered was a group of D.U.P's bursting their way into his air capsule. One of them said "This Sacred Heart Guy better show up fast."

Then, Delsin's world went black.

* * *

Perry

"Repeat this too me like I'm twelve, Nancy," Perry growled to hide his growing worry.

JD looked around, frightened that someone at the taco stand would hear him.

"Elliot froze herself in the bathtub last night. She shows prime signs of being a…well, you know."

Bio-terrorist. Yeah, Perry knew, and he didn't like it one bit.

"If Barbie's showing signs of being a…_one of them_, then she won't be able to show her face in public again until she can control her powers," Perry said under his breath.

"I know, I know," said JD, agitated. "I set the thermos in her house to below freezing and told her to stay there until I got home."

"You didn't stay with her?" asked Perry, incredulously. "For that matter, Charlotte, why are you still wearing your scrubs?"

"Dr. Cox, she may have ice powers, but I'm still human," JD snapped. "I can't handle below freezing. And I didn't change like everyone else here because I'm on call tonight. I didn't want to change in the co-ed room again."

"Elizabeth, you would have found a way to make it work because it's your Barbie," Perry scoffed. "Just admit it, you're scared of bio-terrorists."

Perry fumed quietly as he watched JD drift off to daydream. He would have fumed aloud, but he, like the girl in front of him, knew the ramifications of having a known bio-terrorist in the area. He may have been a mean old man, but there was no way he was going to let Elliot spend the rest of her life rotting away in some D.U.P cell just because she was suddenly Elsa.

JD stopped humming 'Let it Go' under his breath. "Okay, so maybe I am just a little bit. But that's what the D.U.P's for. Right?" Only…"

"You don't want that to happen to Elliot," Perry said seriously, staring Newbie down. "Which means that somewhere, you realize that the D.U.P are basically Nazis. Sure, you may be scared of the Jews now, but now that one of your friends is one of them, you realize that the regime must end."

Before JD could even drift into another daydream of facist San Francisco, an Armored Van, Vehicle, _thing_ burst its way through the park to the courtyard. Out swarmed dozens of what Perry could only assume were actual D.U.P soldiers.

Thank the God that may or may not exist that JD left Elliot at home that day.

When the stormtroopers descended on their table, Perry cursed that same God he'd just thanked.

Two of them grabbed JD, one by each arm, and hauled him away, kicking and flailing.

"I'm not a bio-terrorist!" he yelled, sounding absolutely terrified. "Get off me! I'm not a bio-terrorist!"

"If anyone tries to go after us, they will be named an enemy to the peace, and shot on sight," said a D.U.P.

"I'll getcha out of this, newbie," Perry called to the kid. "I swear."

Before JD could answer, a D.U.P thwacked him over the head with his gun, and JD crumpled, out cold.

"Hey geniuses!" Perry shouted, very aware of all the guns now trained on him. "You probably just gave that man a concussion!"

They obviously didn't like his shouting, so another one did the same thing to him. Perry hit the ground. The last thing he saw were storm troopers loading JD's unconscious body into the armored vehicle, then driving off.

Perry blinked a couple times, realizing triumphantly that he wasn't hit hard enough to be knocked out. All he'd get later was a massive migraine but for now, that was good enough for him.

Perry knew he needed to tell as many people as possible that JD had been arrested by the D.U.P, but first…

"Did you really have to take the on-call doctor?"

* * *

**Willoffire123: Hi everyone! You might've noticed that this chapter's beginning to look like a crossover. Part 3 of this chapter is from a show called Scrubs. It's basically House, but funnier. What I need to know from you is this: if I make this a crossover, will you still read it?**

**JD: Say yes!**

**Willoffire123: You're not helping. Anyway, before I go, I have one more thing I want to say. In case you live under a rock, you've seen on the news that a lot of good people have died within the last week. For me, some were closer to home than others. I would ask that you pray for the families of the dead.**

**JD: Oh…I'm sorry for the losses.**

**Willoffire123: Thanks, JD. Until next time.**


	4. Welcome to Seattle

**Willoffire123: Hi again.**

**JD: Where am I?**

**Willoffire123: Not sure yet. I'll probably figure out in at least 20 lines of text.**

**Delsin: Just go with it man.**

**JD: Who're you?  
Augustine: Your new best friend.**

**JD: No way. Turk's my best friend!**

**Augustine: I can have you shot, you know.**

**JD: (turns to Delsin) Caramel Bear!**

**Delsin: He's creepy.**

**Augustine: Okay, that's enough free time for you. You're going back to your cage.**

**Delsin: *Sigh***

**JD: NO! CARAMEL BEAR!**

**Augustine: You're going with him; you're his doctor. **

**JD: Say what now?**

**Willoffire123: I don't own inFAMOUS: Second Son or Scrubs. On with the chapter!**

* * *

Perry

Perry felt the cold hit him the moment he set foot on Barbie's walkway.

"C'mon, Perry, you owe it to yourself to tell her," he told himself, slipping on his fifth layer of warm clothing before knocking on the door.

"Hello?"

"Open the door, Barbie, before I realize I enjoy having circulation in my limbs and hightail it out of here!"  
"Dr. Cox?"

With the sound of cracking ice, the front door cracked open, letting out all the cruelties of the Artic Tundra into the warm, July afternoon.

Perry pulled his scarf over his face, shielding himself from the cold.

"For Gods sakes, Barbie, let me in before I change my mind," said Perry, teeth chattering. Then, under his breath, he added "There are no D.U.P's in this area; you know that already."

That did it. With the groan of shifting ice, the door swung open. Despite what Perry could only describe as the inside of an ice cave several thousand feet below the surface of the Artic Sea, Barbie wore a tank top and shorts.

"I have to hand it to you," she said shakily. "You're taking it better than the others did. They all climbed over the fence to the back yard to avoid going through the house."

Perry blinked. "That's an option?"  
He regretted asking it almost as soon as he'd done it. He may be a cold-hearted bastard, but the literal ice queen was in front of him and for the first time ever, Perry could see that she was genuinely frightened.

Perry sighed. "Let's get this over with."

She may have looked scared, but Barbie did manage to reward him with a small smile. "Follow me. And shut the door behind you, will you? It's boiling outside."

If it weren't for the slick ice floors, Perry would have sprinted through the tiny house just to get back outside in the back yard. But when he did reach the back yard, he reveled in the sweet, sweet warmth of the outdoors.

"Why not turn the back deck into an ice rink too, Barbie?" asked Perry. "That way you can go outside."

Barbie sighed from the safety of her kitchen window. "I wish. I can't take the risk of my neighbors ratting me out."  
"Don't you worry, Elliot, we won't let them," Carla said firmly.

"Yeah!" said Turk. "If they want you, those D.U.P's will have to go through us first!"

"Oh, bad move, Gandhi," said Perry, eyeing Barbie carefully.

The window began to frost over.

"I swear I'm not doing it!" Barbie said shrilly.

"Yes, you are. Now, Barbie, I need you to take a deep breath and _calm down_," said Perry. "The three of us are right here. Nobody's taking you anywhere."

Thankfully, Barbie's window thawed out a little bit, showing a shell-shocked Barbie staring at her friends. Perry knew what she was about to ask, and he knew that the three of them would have one hell of a job calming her down once it had happened.

"Where's JD?"

"I haven't seen him all day," said Turk.

"Don't look at me," said Carla, holding up her hands. "Neither have I. He's on call tonight, isn't he? He's probably at the hospital."

Come to think of it, once Perry told all three of them how Newbie was knocked unconscious and thrown into the back of an Armored Vehicle by the D.U.P, he'd have one hell of a job calming the rest of them down.

"JD's been arrested," he said in a low voice. "By the D.U.P."

Perry thanked his nonexistent lucky stars that Carla and Turk's first reaction was to calm down Elliot.

"Elliot, it's going to be okay," Carla said quickly.

"JD would never sell you out, you know that," said Turk.

"Dr. Cox," said Barbie through panicked breaths. "Why did they take JD?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Barbie," said Perry. "We were on a break at the taco stand when the armored vehicle came barreling onto the lawn. They all swarmed out, grabbed Martha, knocked him out, carried him back into the armored vehicle, and drove off again."

Carla threw a hand over her mouth. "Oh, Bambi!"

"Just out of curiosity, who took his shift?" asked Turk.

Carla smacked him on the shoulder.

"What? It's important!" Turk protested.

* * *

"_So lemme get this straight," said The Todd. "I need to go medical for the night cuz JD's in the slammer?"_

_Perry waved his hand in the universal 'And?' gesture._

"_And if I tell anyone that JD's in the slammer, you'll suture my hands together, get your bio-terrorist friend to turn me into an ice Todd, and throw me off the roof of the hospital."_

"_More or less."_

_Todd grinned. "Awesome! Support for JD high-five!"_

* * *

"Did you take the high-five?" Turk asked curiously.

Carla smacked him again. "Turk!"

"I growled at him and he ran away," Perry said thoughtfully.

"The way I see it, we have at least four days before anyone notices that JD's missing," said Barbie. "Did they say where they were taking him?"

"Gee, Barbie, I don't know. If I were a big scary D.U.P trooper who arrested JD, would I announce to the heavens where I was taking him so anyone listening could go and rescue him?"

Barbie frowned. "You know, Dr. Cox, in the midst of my _life changing _discovery I've had today, I discovered several new powers. If you ask that dead squirrel by the fence, I'm sure it would be glad to explain to you how I can freeze the blood in any vein in a living body."

Turk gulped.

"Here's what we're gonna do," said Carla. "The D.U.P is based in Seattle, so that's as good a place as any to go and look for Bambi."

"You can't be serious," said Perry, dumbfounded. "You can't actually take four days off to go to Seattle and look for Sharron."

For a fleeting moment, Perry felt the horrific sensation of frost clinging to his feet.

"Alright, alright! But if you were to go to Seattle, you know Barbie here would end up in prison just like Doris," Perry said hastily. "In case you haven't noticed, the world doesn't take too kindly to people like her."

"It's simple," said Carla. Perry loved it when she took charge; it meant he didn't have to. "Dr. Cox, you've been to anger management counseling, you'll keep an eye on Elliot, make sure her emotions don't get too out of hand."

"Good plan, Baby," said Turk. "From what we've seen over the last 30 minutes or so that we've been standing out here, Elliot's powers are influenced by her emotions."

"The D.U.P has scanning machines to check if someone's a bio-terrorist," said Carla. "So they must've seen that JD isn't one. So what did they really need him for? Think, doctors, what else is JD?"

Turk clapped his hands together. "A doctor!" he said proudly.

It took all of Perry's energy not to roll his eyes at Gandhi. Then, he realized that Gandhi was right. "Cynthia was the only one in the courtyard wearing his scrubs; they must need a doctor."

"Whatever they needed a doctor for must've been big; Seattle's a day's road trip from here," said Carla. "Therefore, they're soon going to realize that JD alone isn't going to cut it. That's when we reveal ourselves to them, they take us in too, and we spring Bambi from the joint!"

"Um, Carla?" piped up Barbie. "You're forgetting one teensy little detail."

"Much as it pains me to say it, Barbie's right, Carla," said Perry. "With the D.U.P occupation in Seattle, Barbie won't be able to set one foot in the city without them knowing she's there, let alone waltzing into a D.U.P stronghold as an undercover doctor."

Through the sound of more cracking ice, Barbie took a deep breath, and opened the back door to join Perry and the others on the back porch. "JD needs me. Besides, the D.U.P's are terrible at occupying cities; Seattle's full of people like me. Who knows? Maybe I'll learn how to control-," with a 'whoosh!' noise, the gathering frost on her windowsill flower box left the box and absorbed into her hand.

Barbie gripped her glowing white hand with the whole 'Frick! What's happening to me?' look Perry had been expecting when he arrived at her house in the first place. Then, she absorbed that too. "That's not the important part. JD needs me."

At that moment, Perry could've berated the kiddies for their suicide mission. He could've barked at them for even _thinking _they were allowed to make him chaperone. But in that moment, he remembered Georgia's ever-so-annoyingly cheerful, smiling face, and the moment he was knocked out-probably concussed too, mind you- and driven away by wannabe cops.

"Let's go, I'm driving."

"How far up does your AC go?"

"NO ELLIOT!"

* * *

JD

JD loved to daydream.

He loved dreaming in general, really.

But then there was waking up. Waking up really sucked cuz it took away the dream.

Take for example, when JD woke from his 'Frozen the Musical' dream to find himself in a steel van with very intimidating looking people with guns barreling down the highway to God knows where.

Oh, that really _sucked. _

"Dr. Dorian?"

JD flinched. It shouldn't have, but the man who'd spoken to him, combined with the background noise from outside the van, felt like claws trying their hardest to rip his head apart.

"Dr. Dorian!"

JD winced. There it was again. JD decided he didn't like this guy. He wouldn't even let him daydream, for crying out loud! And JD loved to daydream! There was of course that Frozen dream he'd been having while he was asleep. He was Olaf and Elsa was about to kiss him…

A sharp pain to his knuckles brought him back to reality.

"Dr. Dorian!"

"How do you know my name?" JD whimpered, glad that his voice, though cowardly, was still working. "Who are you? Where are you taking me?"

"We read your nametag, dumbass," said another guy.

"We're the D.U.P, Dr. Dorian," said the first guy. "We-,"

"Protect us from bio-terrorists," said JD in a small voice, doing everything in his willpower not to think of Elliot. Could they read minds? JD bet they could. "But I'm not a bio-terrorist. Don't you have machines that confirm that?"

"We do," said the first guy. "But that's not why you're here, Dr. Dorian."

The van came to a screeching halt, JD's body lurching forward onto the floor of the van. JD, however, had his hands tied. Therefore, his arms were very unhelpful in breaking his fall, and without the use of his arms to break his fall, he fell painfully onto them.

Two D.U.P soldiers hauled him up, one on each arm, and threw him out of the van.

JD collided painfully with the tarmac, trying very hard not to notice how his stomach threatened to upchuck its contents each time he was tossed around like a sack of flower. Was he concussed? He really hoped not.

Wait a second. Why were they on a tarmac?

"Get up," ordered another soldier.

"Um, well, you see, I can't," JD spluttered. "My hands are a little tied."

Good one, JD!

The soldier obviously didn't think so, but he pulled JD to his feet anyway. It was then that JD noticed one of those helicopters designed to carry a large group of soldiers waiting for them.

Before-or after, he wasn't going to do it anyway when there where who knows how many armed soldiers in the vicinity- JD could protest, he'd been loaded onto the helicopter and he and about a dozen D.U.P soldiers were up in the air.

The soldier from before prodded him with his gun to get his attention.

"Before you wet yourself, kid," said the soldier. "Look at where we are."

JD looked where he was pointing and felt quite ready to wet himself. The helicopter was approaching what looked like a D.U.P stronghold in the shape of a gigantic bulls-eye. On the outer ring was what JD could only assume to be the guard wall. It was taller than the other two rings, and soldiers patrolled along the walls at regular intervals. The middle ring was a circle of buildings. The center ring was tiny; JD couldn't really make it out even as it got closer and closer; his vision was blurring too badly.

"You see the center of our stronghold there?" asked JD's new soldier friend as the helicopter came down for landing. "That's the only occupied cell in this place."

JD stumbled as they loaded him off the helicopter and began pushing him to the elevator. "You mean you have this gigantic prison and you only have one prisoner? I thought you guys were supposed to be good at this."

JD earned a hit to the back with someone's gun for his insolence.

"We're the best, kid," said his soldier friend. "Don't you forget it. But this isn't Curden Cay."

"No?"

"Nah, this place is for special bio-terrorists."

JD gulped. "So not all b-bio-terrorists are special?"

His new friend chuckled. "Boy, you don't even know the meaning of the word."

His new friend stopped him as they were passing through what seemed to be a never-ending hallway.

"Look out the window," he ordered.

JD obeyed. He finally got a close up view of the prisoner's cell. He still couldn't see very clearly inside the cell-damn, his probably concussed brain!-but he could at least make out one guy suspended off the ground by chains. From this distance, even concussed JD could see that the guy needed medical attention.

"That's Kevlar-strength glass surrounding his room," said Soldier-Man. "He's chained like that for 3/4ths of the day, and the 1/4th is so he can regain circulation in his limbs. You see that collar around his neck? That's a drug-collar. We use it to administer sedatives, hallucinogens and any other drug necessary because he's too dangerous for any of us to touch. This guy's special because if we put him in Curden Cay, it would be the end of mankind as we know it. So yeah, this entire fortress, with state-of-the-art security and thousands of soldiers to guard it, is guarding one prisoner. And guess what?"  
"He's my patient," JD realized in a hollow voice.

Soldier-Man clapped him on the shoulder. "Bingo! Now then, let's go and get you your Kevlar vest so you can go and meet Delsin Rowe."

* * *

**Willoffire123: Why am I doing this to myself? I have an exam tomorrow morning!**

**JD: Ah, but you said that's when you do your best work.**

**Fetch: Why wasn't I in this chapter? I'm way more important than Q-tip over here!**

**JD: Laverne?**

**Fetch: Psycho.**

**Willoffire123: I'm just going to let them work out their problems. I have a message for my audience. Now that this story is most definitely a crossover-mind you, I never intended it to be; it just happened- I need to move it to the crossover section of the website. If I do that, will you still read it?**

**Fetch: Fruit for thought. Anyway, until next time!**


	5. Enter the Unknown

**Willoffire123: Exams suck.**

**Delsin: You know what else sucks? Being the D.U.P's lab rat.**

**JD: You know what else really sucks? Being arrested by the D.U.P without actually doing anything wrong.**

**Willoffire123: You know what else really sucks? The fact that I don't own inFAMOUS: Second Son OR Scrubs!**

**Fetch: Boys are dumb.**

**Willoffire123: I'm a girl.**

**JD: On with the chapter!**

* * *

JD

From what he'd heard so far from his guards, his patient was one crazy powerful fruit-loop.

JD was still miffed that this was his patient against his will.

From what JD knew about bio-terrorists, they weren't meant to leave the care of the D.U.P. Like, _ever. _

So what did that mean for the bio-terrorist's doctor?  
"Relax, Dr. Dorian," said Soldier-Man. "We'll be monitoring your initial meeting with Mr. Rowe; if the dog so much as snarls, we'll make it heel and pull you out."

"You do realize he's still a human-being, right?" JD prodded as they reached the long hallway connecting his patient's cell to the middle ring of the fortress.

Intense pain in his already aching head flared up for his insolence.

"I'm not as oblivious as you might think, Dr. Dorian," said Soldier-Man in a dangerously calm voice. "I've seen how much head trauma you've had over the past 14 hours. Don't push me."

And with that, Soldier-Man removed JD's cuffs and pushed him through the doorway to the walkway connecting to Mr. Rowe's cell.

JD tried to ignore the pulse-pounding pain building up in his temples, his blurring vision, and his horrible nausea but it was hard. He was a doctor, after all. So, even though he knew that somehow, the D.U.P were watching him, he stopped before using the pin-prick blood recognition door to see his crazy patient forced on him by his crazy kidnappers, closed his eyes, and took three deep breaths.

"_Get to work, Dr. Dorian!" _barked a voice over the intercom, jarring JD out of his 'stay-in-healthy-enough-condition-to-treat-crazy-powerhouse-patient' ritual.

With trembling hands, JD allowed the door to prick his finger and scan his blood.

DNA RECOGNIZED. JOHN DORIAN: ATTENDING PHYSICIAN

JD tried not to focus on how cool that door was because at that moment, the door slid open, revealing JD's patient on the other side of a Kevlar-glass partition.

JD took a moment to acknowledge his knocking knees, then he set aside his fear for the moment; he had a job to do.

He cleared his throat. "Ah-hem! Mr. Rowe, I presume?"

Mr. Rowe lay on his bed, staring at the celling as if daring it to wrong him just as everyone else in this hellhole had. When he heard JD's voice, his head turned to face him.

With dead eyes, Delsin Rowe regarded a both terrified and concerned John Dorian.

"Sup?"

* * *

Reggie

It was only by chance that Reggie, Abigail, Eugene and Celia had run into Perry Cox, Chris Turk, Carla Espinosa and Elliot Reid.

Against his better judgment, Reggie had run Betty's cryptic message by Abigail, who had deciphered almost immediately 'a portfolio of his work' to mean pictures of all his graffiti.

"It takes a tagger to know a tagger, right?" she'd said proudly. "We can start down by the wharf; the bulls-eyes are the closest ones."

For some odd reason, both Celia and Eugene had consented, and the four of them were strolling along the pier when the boat made of ice pulled up to the dock.

Reggie watched as two men and a woman stepped out of the boat.

"I still can't believe she made a _boat_," said the bald-black one.

Wasting no time, Reggie pulled the bald-black man into a tackle shed, Abigail doing the same with the Latina woman and the curly-haired man.

"Celia, stand guard here," Reggie ordered. "Eugene, when we got here, Delsin crossed the destroyed Seattle Bridge to get to Seattle. That's gotta be what this ice user's doing. Go find her."

"Who are you? And what are you doing?" demanded the Latina woman when Reggie returned to the tackle shop.

"Keep your voice down, lady," warned Abigail. "And you can relax. If your boat's any indication, we're on your side."

Reggie could sense the curly-haired man about to pounce, so he stepped in front of Abigail. "Let's keep this peaceful, everyone. I believe introductions are in order."

He held out his hand. "My name is Reggie Rowe, I'm a cop-not with the D.U.P!-just a cop. This is Abigail Walker."

"Friends call me Fetch," she explained.

"The girl standing guard outside is Celia, and the kid with the backpack and the glasses is Eugene," he finished. "And you are."

Before either of the men could say anything, the Latina woman introduced the three of them. "My name is Carla Espinosa. This is my husband, Chris Turk, and our colleague, Perry Cox. We all work at Sacred Heart Hospital in San Francisco. Yesterday, our friend, John Dorian, was arrested by the D.U.P even though he isn't a bio-terrorist-,"

"I'd be careful who you use that word around, Carla," Reggie warned her, shooting a glance back at Abigail.

Though her fists were clenched, she mouthed, "I'm okay," back at him.

"Reggie, was it?" said the curly-haired one, Perry. "What exactly did you send this Eugene person off to do?"

"He sent him to go save your friend from imprisonment," said Abigail. "He should be back in 3-2-,"

Before she could reach one, two soft thuds outside the tackle shop and the sound of flapping wings told them that Eugene had returned.

"Were those _wings_, I heard?" demanded Chris.

"Look, Chris-," said Reggie as Eugene and Celia entered the tackle shop, supporting a blonde-haired, blue-eyed lady in between them.

"Call me Turk," he insisted. "And why do you have Elliot?"

"It's okay, guys," said Blondie, Elliot. "I was crossing the bridge like we planned when Eugene swooped in and flew me off. If I'd kept going, I would've run straight into a checkpoint."  
"Hold up," said Turk. "What do you mean, Eugene swooped in and picked you up?"

"Well, Turk," said Reggie. "Apart from me, all three of my friends here are conduits."

"First of all, thank you for saying conduit," said Abigail. "Bio-terrorist is _so _insensitive. And second, he's right," she addressed the doctors. "Eugene, Celia and myself are all conduits, like your friend Elliot."

Celia put a comforting hand on Elliot's arm, making Elliot jump. "How long ago did you realize your powers?"

"Two days," she mumbled.

Perry narrowed in on Reggie. "And why are you here, officer?"

Reggie was un-amused. Did this guy really think he could piss with him?

Reggie met Perry and looked him dead in the eyes. "You listen to me, Perry, and you listen good."

He pointed out the window at the faint outline of the fortress the D.U.P were using to hold Delsin. "Do you see that? If your friend, John Dorian, is not a conduit, he was taken because he's a doctor. That fortress is a state of the art, maximum security holding facility designed to keep dangerous people locked away for the rest of their lives. There is just one prisoner in there, and if you're here to rescue his doctor, you're going to need our help."

"Why are you helping us?" asked Elliot.

"Because you remind me of me when I first discovered my powers," said Abigail. "But also because we're trying to rescue that prisoner."

"Why?" asked Turk. "I'm sorry, but you said that this place is to keep dangerous people locked up."

Reggie sighed. "Because that prisoner that none of you have ever met, yet you're still afraid of, is my little brother."

* * *

JD

All JD's fear of the man in front of him melted when he saw how _broken_ he was.

"I am so sorry," he blurted, incapable of thinking of anything else but the concrete daggers wedged into the man's hands and feet. "That looks incredibly painful."

Mr. Rowe chuckled. "Not much of a first impression, is it?"

It boosted JD's confidence to see Mr. Rowe look more animated as time went on, so he sat on the bench and glanced at Mr. Rowe's chart.

"I can clearly see what's wrong here," he told him, indicating the piercings. "But you and I both know there are hundreds of soldiers watching and listening to this entire conversation, so why don't you tell me just for funsies?"

Mr. Rowe's half-hearted smile grew. "You mean, besides the body piercings? Oh, those are fun. It's Augustine's little way of making sure I stay put and under her control."

"Who's Augustine?" JD asked innocently.

If he could manage disbelief in his current condition, JD liked to think that Mr. Rowe would have had that expression on his face. "That bitch is the head of the D.U.P."

The faint smell of burning flesh, a small flash of white light, and Mr. Rowe's pained expression told him that Augustine had not liked his little 'bitch' comment.

"That's it," said JD, facing what he hoped were Augustine and her workers watching their interaction. "We're trying to fix the problems he already has, not give him new ones!"

"_I can put a collar on you too, Dr. Dorian," _said a female voice from over the intercom. _"Don't forget, I own your ass now."_

JD's heart sank. He'd had a feeling they weren't going to just let him go, but having it confirmed just hurt.

"What did she mean, she owns your ass?" asked Mr. Rowe. "Didn't they ask you to come here?"

JD chuckled with a mixture of humorlessness and rising panic. "No, I was kidnapped while on my lunch break."

"That sucks, man," said Mr. Rowe. Considering how they were treating him, now one of only two prisoners in that entire stronghold, JD knew he meant it.

JD examined Mr. Rowe to the best of his abilities from behind a Kevlar-glass partition. The man wore a white wife-beater and the orange jumpsuit pants of his prison uniform, the jacket being tied around his waist. The burnt-red beanie seemed very out of place with his prison uniform, but if it was one of the only personal items Mr. Rowe was allowed to keep, that was okay with JD. What really got to JD was the steel dog collar clamped firmly around Mr. Rowe's neck, adorned with shocking gizmos and capsules that JD remembered hearing from Soldier-Man would inject any type of drug into Mr. Rowe's bloodstream.

"I can't do much from this side of the glass," he admitted to Mr. Rowe. "Are you hurting anywhere besides the hands and feet?"

"Chest," said Mr. Rowe. "My chest is burning, my insides feeling like acid and my mouth has tasted like burning plastic ever since they cut me up."

"They operated on you?" said JD. "What for?"

Mr. Rowe rolled his eyes. "Hell if I know. I remember someone saying it was to 'see how I tick', then the next thing I knew, I woke up here."

As a physician, JD was annoyed that his patient had had unnecessary surgery. As a fellow human, JD felt outraged that Mr. Rowe was dissected like a lab rat.

"They can't do that," he told Mr. Rowe, barely masking the anger in his voice.

"If I had the energy, I'd laugh," Mr. Rowe told him. "Of course they can; I'm their prisoner."

JD took another three deep breaths. Letting his emotions get out of hand would do his concussion and his patient no good.

"But you're still human," he insisted. "Even if you are a bio-terrorist, the Geneva Convention-,"

"To hell with the Geneva Convention, man," said Mr. Rowe. "Do you see anyone else opposing how they're treating me?"

JD had to admit that he was right; everyone there seemed to think of Mr. Rowe as scum.

"And one more thing," said Mr. Rowe. "Bio-terrorist is kind of like a racial slur, so-,"

"What do you call yourself, then?" asked JD.

"I'm a conduit."

* * *

**Willoffire123: And so JD and Delsin finally meet!**

**Delsin: But when is he going to stop calling me Mr. Rowe?**

**JD: And when is he going to stop calling me Dr. Dorian?**

**Delsin: But, you are Dr. Dorian.**

**JD: And you are Mr. Rowe.**

**Delsin: Touché**

**Willoffire123: We'll just have to find out next time!**


	6. The Impenetrable Fortress

**Willoffire123: Hi again!**

**Delsin: That was fast.**

**Willoffire123: Well, Verizon crashed, so I'm stuck without internet for a while. Plus, I originally wrote this as part of chapter 5, but chapter 5 was getting too long, so I sliced it.**

**JD: What do you mean Verizon crashed?**

**Willoffire123: I mean, Verizon crashed. So whenever I finish this will probably not be when I upload it, since everyone who uses Verizon will be internet free until Verizon 'un-crashes' itself.**

**Reggie: Interesting.**

**Delsin: Reggie!**

**Reggie: Delsin!**

**Augustine: You're done now. Willoffire123 doesn't own inFAMOUS: Second Son or Scrubs. **

**Willoffire123: What a party pooper…On with the chapter, then.**

* * *

JD

"Augustine labeled me as a _special _conduit because I can absorb the powers of other conduits," Mr. Rowe continued to explain to JD, never taking his eyes off the celling.

JD massaged his temples furiously. "So lemme get this straight. Other conduits can manipulate a certain element, and you can take that power from them?"

"Yup," said Mr. Rowe. "Pretty cool, huh?"  
"There are a lot of people watching us right now who will hurt me if I say yes," said JD. "But hell yeah! That is so cool!"

JD knew he was going to pay for that later, but it was totally worth it to see the lopsided grin on Mr. Rowe's face.

"_You have a job to do, Dr. Dorian_," said a voice over the intercom. _"I suggest you do it."_

"How am I supposed to do that when I can't even touch him?" JD snapped back.

Mr. Rowe waved his hands in the air half-heartedly. "Augustine, I can barely move, I'm cuffed, and I still have your presents pierced through my hands and feet. I can't do _shit _to him."

"_Very well then," _said Augustine. _"Dr. Dorian, stand back from the glass."_

JD watched as the Kevlar-glass partition slid into a chamber in the ground.

"Hey," said JD, forgetting all about his underlying fear of bio-terrorists to cover the distance between his bench and Mr. Rowe's bed. "Let's take a look at your stitches."

JD saw Mr. Rowe physically recoil. "What for?"

"Relax, Mr. Rowe," JD said calmly. "I just need to make sure there is no post-op infection."

Mr. Rowe didn't seem entirely convinced, but he realized he had little choice in the matter, so he allowed JD to lift up his shirt to see the scar underneath.

JD winced. Setting aside the fact that the D.U.P violated Mr. Rowe's basic rights as a human to dissect him, JD peered at the long row of neat stitches stretching from Mr. Rowe's clavicle down past his ribcage.

"Well, it's definitely infected," said JD, peering at the angry red color. He took out his chart again. "I'm going to recommend you start systemic antimicrobial therapy right away to reduce the swelling and the nausea."

"You're talking to the wrong person, Dr. Dorian," Mr. Rowe said tiredly. "Do you really think I have a say in any of this?"

JD knew he had a point. If he had a say in his health, he probably wouldn't have had surgery in the first place. Hell, he wouldn't have been arrested in the first place.

"I'm going out on a limb here by saying that Augustine is also a conduit," said JD. He tapped lightly on the concrete dagger in Mr. Rowe's left hand, growing more alarmed by the minute when that provoked no visceral reaction. "And that she's the one who did this to you."

"Sharp thinking, Sherlock," Mr. Rowe said sarcastically.

JD frowned. At this moment, he would normally drift off into a Sherlock daydream. Instead, the pounding in his head intensified. Maybe his concussion was worse than he ever thought possible.

"Dr. Dorian?" asked Mr. Rowe. "Did you hear me?"

JD blinked, massaging his throbbing temples. "Sorry, I think your friends over there gave me a concussion when they knocked me out and kidnapped me. You were saying?"

JD supposed that it was a tribute to their fast-growing friendship, but Mr. Rowe's eyes darkened. "The D.U.P's supposed to _protect _the public from people like me, not hurt them. That bitch is going to pay."

"For now, let's just calm down," JD said hastily. "And tell me what you were saying when I zoned out."

It seemed to work. Mr. Rowe's eyes returned to their normal color, and the flush in his cheeks receded. "Augustine's power is concrete manipulation. She enjoys stabbing people with her concrete, Exhibits A, B, C, and D," he said, indicating his limbs. "And since she's the prime conduit with this power, only she can pull out the daggers."  
"She didn't tell you all of this when she arrested you, did she?" asked JD. "That doesn't seem like the kind of thing a sadist would do."

Mr. Rowe sighed. "She didn't tell me; I found out for myself when I discovered my powers."

JD found the bench again and settled down. "You sounded like you were about to tell a story," he explained. "Well, I'm all ears."

Mr. Rowe fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to prop himself up.

"You don't have to make eye contact with me," JD assured him. "Don't try and sit up."

Mr. Rowe consented, settling back down to tell JD his story.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm Native American," he explained to JD. "I don't actually live in Seattle; I live at the longhouse in Salmon Bay. About a month ago now, a military truck carrying three conduits crashed outside the longhouse. The truck was carrying those conduits for transport from the D.U.P to a military base, since the military was trying to slowly take over the D.U.P's job."

"And how's that working out?" JD asked snarkily.

Mr. Rowe chuckled. "Not well, Dr. Dorian, not well. Anyway, the truck crashed and the three escaped. Only problem was that one of them got stuck under the wreckage. My brother went after the first two and told me to stay put."

"Let me guess," said JD, who knew quite a lot about brothers. "He's older, and you did the exact opposite."

Mr. Rowe grinned. "You have an older brother too? Then you know I went to help out the trapped conduit." His face fell. "But just as I'd pulled the guy free, my brother came back. The conduit freaked out when he saw my brother, since my brother's a cop."

"Not with these people?" asked JD, gesturing around them.

"Nah," said Mr. Rowe. "My brother, Reggie, may have hated conduits, but he wanted to stay close to the tribe, so he took the job of Sheriff of Salmon Bay."

"Your brother, Reggie, was it? Anyway, Mr. Rowe, if he hates conduits, does that mean that he's…?" JD trailed off.

Mr. Rowe snorted. "Reggie wishes he was that cool. But no, he's completely human. I was too, or so we thought, until that conduit freaked out when he saw Reggie's badge."

Despite the concussion, the various other bruises and his rumbling stomach-curse the D.U.P for kidnapping him while he was on his lunch break-JD was enjoying himself. He felt like a little kid asking his grandpa to tell him an old war story when he asked "Then what happened?"

Mr. Rowe shot him a bemused look. "I know that look and I'm not your grandpa, Dr. Dorian. You're what, 30?"

"Yeah," JD said defensively. "So?"

"So, I'm only 23," said Mr. Rowe.

JD swallowed a lump in his throat. This guy was so young! He had so much of his life left to live. What kind of a life would it be if it was led in here?

Mr. Rowe must have seen the look on JD's face, because he then silenced him. "It's alright, Dr. Dorian."

"No, it isn't-," JD started, only for Mr. Rowe to interrupt him.

"You're right," said Mr. Rowe. "But, not here."

JD wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing that he'd forgotten entirely about the panel of faces watching and listening to their entire conversation. Fortunately, Mr. Rowe hadn't.

"So, where was I?" Mr. Rowe asked forcibly.

"The conduit you pulled from the wrecked truck freaked out when he saw your brother?"

"Right, well this conduit grabbed me. He probably thought he could use me as a hostage. I don't know what I was thinking, but I grabbed his hand, then everything went black."

JD scribbled something on his chart about possible head trauma that could be related to newly-awakened conduits. Even through everything that he was hearing, JD turned back to his medical training. What else was he supposed to do? Everything he knew to be true about bio-no, _conduits, _was crumbling around him; his medical knowledge was the one concrete thing he had left to hold on to.

Err, that was what he told himself, anyway. Speaking of medical knowledge, JD knew that with his concussion, he couldn't daydream anymore; he might fall asleep. JD pinched himself back to reality in time for Mr. Rowe to continue his story.

"When I woke up, I could hear Reggie shouting from somewhere far away. All I knew was that I needed to get to him. But then, I _dissolved _into smoke."

JD blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Hank, the guy I got my first powers from, called it Smoke Dash," explained Mr. Rowe. "I turn into smoke and move through solid objects."

"And what did you do when you discovered this?" asked JD.

Mr. Rowe snorted. "I freaked out, obviously. But Reggie helped me through it. Together, we went back to the warehouse that Hank was planning to blow up to find all the gates locked shut. Our grandma, Betty, was still in there though, so I smoke dashed through the gates, then through the air vents to get inside."

JD scribbled some more. "Air vents. Good to know."

Mr. Rowe smiled weakly. "That's what I said! Anyway, I got Betty out, fought Hank, and chased him outside to find Augustine trapping him in her concrete prison."

"Did she kill him?" asked JD.

"I thought she did," said Mr. Rowe. "But she used the same move on me when she brought me here, and I'm still alive."

JD gestured at him to continue. He wanted Mr. Rowe to finish his story so he could return to wherever they were keeping him so he could write it all down; the front of the story, the longhouse, was already fogging in his memory, blurring into a non-distinct image.

Concussions really sucked.

"Well, Augustine suspected I was hiding something, so she staked me in the leg with her concrete daggers," said Mr. Rowe. "But then she turned on Betty and said if-if I didn't spill my secret, she'd make Betty talk. And if Betty wouldn't talk, she'd turn on the rest of the tribe."

Mr. Rowe took a deep breath and kept going. "Of course I then told her everything I knew; that I was now a conduit and Hank had made me one." His expression darkened. "That wasn't good enough for her, so she staked me again and I blacked out. I woke up in the longhouse three days later to find my brother keeping watch over me and the rest of the tribe, who all had Augustine's 'presents' sticking out of them like needles in a pincushion. I was lucky. With my new powers came fast healing, so the daggers in my leg were gone. The others weren't so lucky. Reggie told me that the doctors said that the only way the concrete was coming out of my friends and family was the same way it went in."

"By Augustine," JD realized. "So you and Reggie came to Seattle to find her."

"Yup," said Mr. Rowe. "And somewhere down the way, she ambushed me and brought me here."

"I gotta say, man," said JD. "That really sucks."

"Yeah," Mr. Rowe agreed. "No kidding."

At that moment, what really sucked came bursting through the door. JD felt a prick on his neck, then nothing.

* * *

Delsin

Delsin watched them drag away Doctor Dorian with that now familiar feeling of desperation in his chest. He used to be powerful enough to bring down buildings and cross entire destroyed bridges. Now, he couldn't even defend his friends.

"Wow. Well aren't you useless?"

Delsin stiffened. "Not again," he whispered.

"Yes again, dumbass," said a new voice.

Delsin shuddered, cursing the unfairness of it all. He spent only Augustine knows how long listening to the voices of Reggie and Fetch torment him, trying to block them out.

It was only when he was too tired to fight the voices anymore that he heard the door open, and the head of the D.U.P herself whisper comforting words that blocked out his brother and his friend and lulled him into a fitful sleep.

Delsin wasn't proud of it, but this time, he actually listened.

* * *

**Willoffire123: I think I'm going stir crazy.**

**Perry: Lemme guess**

**JD: You ate a lot of sugar?**

**Reggie: Something exciting is about to happen?**

**Perry: You killed someone and can't tell anyone about it?**

**Willoffire123: No you idiots! I'm at camp and I can't do squat because IT'S BEEN RAINING FOR THREE FUCKING DAYS!**

**JD: …oh**

**Willoffire123: Well, I have to go to breakfast now. Until next time!**


	7. Operation: Rescue

**Willoffire123: Today is the day of Cinderella!**

**Delsin: From reading your other stories, I'm sensing a pattern here.**

**Willoffire123: Well you see, Delsin, Brigadoon was the play at my camp last year, and I'm here now again this year, and the play is Cinderella this year.**

**Fetch: I like that better.**

**Willoffire123: Me too Fetch, me too.**

**Reggie: WIlloffire123 doesn't own inFAMOUS: Second Son or Scrubs. **

**JD: On with the chapter!**

* * *

Turk

When he awoke that morning, Christopher Turk almost forgot where he was.

_Almost._

"Let's go, chrome-dome!" said Fetch Walker, the pink-haired conduit, standing above his spot on the floor of her apartment, holding his backpack.

Then it came back to him.

Seattle. JD. D.U.P Prison. Conduits. Elliot.

Turk groaned.

"Up and Adam, Turk," said Reggie Rowe, the normal cop, pulling him to his feet and handing him a cup of decaffeinated coffee. "We have work to do."

Sipping his coffee gingerly, Turk joined his wife, Dr. Cox, Elliot, Reggie and the three conduits: Fetch, Eugene and Celia at the kitchen counter. Reggie had out a hand-drawn map of the compound, and was describing something in detail to Carla when Turk slid in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before returning his attention to Reggie.

"The front end of the plan is simple. Once Fetch, Eugene and Celia have left, we call the D.U.P hotline," said Reggie, pointing at a small object off to the right of the compound's walls. "A squad copter will come and retrieve Perry, Turk, Carla and Elliot and bring them inside the building."

"And?" said Carla with a raised eyebrow, "What do we do once we're in the maximum security prison?"

"I'm getting there," Reggie said patiently, "From there, it will be up to Turk and Carla to find this John Dorian. Once you do, rendezvous here," he said, pointing at a point on the far wall, "At the landing bay. Once we've met you there, we'll commandeer a helicopter and make our escape."

"Where do we come in?" demanded Fetch, "I want some action too."

"I'm getting there, Abigail," said Reggie. Turk could see a vein twitching just above his left eyebrow. Something told him that the two of them didn't get along very well, and that this Delsin person had something to do with it.

"Anyway," Reggie continued, "While Turk and Carla are looking for John-,"

"JD," Turk supplied.

"Fine," said Reggie, obviously annoyed at all the interruptions, "While Turk and Carla are looking for JD, Elliot and Perry will be with me, looking for Delsin. Perry, I trust you've shot a gun before?"  
Dr. Cox rolled his eyes. "Do I look like a Pansy? Of course I've shot a gun!"

Reggie held up a hand to silence him. "Good. Once we've busted Delsin out, Elliot and he will go on point. Elliot," he addressed Elliot, who was rubbing both of her hands furiously to keep them warm. The frost gathering on her hands proved she was failing miserably. "I know you've been practicing with your new powers."

Elliot nodded, never faltering in her hand warming. "I practiced last night with Celia and Fetch out back behind the apartment."

The corners of Reggie's mouth turned ever so slightly upward. "Good. Heaven knows what that woman is doing to my brother in there. He's a powerful conduit, but once he's free, you'll need to take the lead."

"Okay," Elliot said with a deep breath. "I think I can do that."  
"Reg," said Fetch, touching his hand to get his attention, "What if Elliot, Celia and Eugene let Delsin…"

"I don't want to overload him," said Reggie.

"Hold up," Turk cut in, "What do you mean, overload him?"  
"I heard this story last night," Dr. Cox cut in. "Do you mind?"

"Go ahead," said Reggie.

"So Delsin, Cop man's brother," said Dr. Cox, "Wasn't actually born with any specific conduit powers. But his power, he found out a few weeks ago, is to absorb other conduits' powers." Dr. Cox turned to Reggie. "How'd I do, professor?"  
Reggie took a swig of coffee and toasted Dr. Cox. "A+, my student."  
"So you want Delsin to absorb my powers?" asked Elliot. Turk could hear rising panic in her voice. "Won't that hurt?"

"Not at all," said Fetch. "You still keep your powers too. All that happens is you relive your life story with him watching."

Elliot took a step backwards from the kitchen counter. "I-uh, I don't," she stammered.

Carla took her hand. "Elliot, JD needs your help."

That did it. Elliot bit her lip and said, "Okay, I'll do it."

"Delsin will absorb Elliot and Eugene's powers," Celia instructed. "In order for me to keep my cover with Augustine, I need to be able to take down targets from a distance."

"Okay," said Turk while inching ever so slightly away from Celia. Although he would never admit it to her, Celia crept him out. "But what do the others do?"

"Oh that's simple," said Fetch with a grin. "We make some noise."

* * *

Elliot

Elliot had to admit; the idea of spending her life in a conduit-prison scared her.

True, her new powers were _unbelievably _cool. Who wouldn't want to be a real-life Elsa?

But the bullseye-shaped fortress looming like a bad dream from the dreary waters of Puget Sound reminded her just what those powers meant for her future, if the public discovered them.

"You're not chickening out on me now are you, Barbie?"

Dr. Cox's sneering voice brought Elliot out of her thoughts.

Elliot shook her head, afraid that should she give a verbal answer, all that would come out would be a terrified squeak.

"Good," Dr. Cox said gruffly under his breath so as not to attract the attention of the soldiers on either side of them. "Because in case you haven't noticed, we're already on the helicopter."

"Listen up, Doctors," the pilot addressed her, Dr. Cox, Turk and Carla, "We're approaching the launching pad. From there, a security detail will take the four of you to the prisoner's cell."

"What about our man who's already in there?" Carla demanded bravely, "Where is he?"  
"Look, lady, this is a big compound," the pilot said exasperatedly, "I'm just a pilot. I don't know anything. You can ask your guards once you're off the chopper."

Elliot bit her tongue to avoid jumping in fright when the helicopter touched lightly on the landing pad.

Carla squeezed her hand. "It'll be okay. We won't let them hurt you."

Elliot tried to give her friend a reassuring smile, but Carla let go of her hand, rubbing her own together furiously to keep warm.

"Just, don't touch anything, okay?" she whispered.

Elliot gulped. "Got it."

"We'll take it from here."

The four doctors reached the end of the hall. Waiting to intercept them were two more guards.

"You and you are coming with me to see to the prisoner," said the first guard, gesturing at Elliot and Dr. Cox with his gun.

"You two will see to your friend," said the other guard, grabbing Carla by the wrist, "Come with me."

"Hey!" Turk protested. "Get your hands off her!"

"I can do worse than that if you don't follow orders," the other guard threatened, "Now move!"  
The first guard waited until his friend, Turk and Carla had disappeared out of sight before speaking. "I'm sorry about that, guys."

Dr. Cox chuckled. "You sly son of a bitch."

Reggie Rowe flipped his visor open to wink at Elliot. "It's going to be alright. Now, let's go see my brother, shall we?"

* * *

Turk

Their Soldier friend took Turk and Carla down a long row of doors before coming to a halt in front of a door marked 047.

"You have one hour to treat your friend," the guard informed them, "Then the three of you are to join the other two in assessing the prisoner."

"Treat him?" Carla demanded with her fists balled "What did you do to him?"

Turk gulped and held Carla's shoulders. "My wife doesn't mean anything by that, sir, we'll treat our friend now, if you would be so kind as to open the door."

Carla shot him a glare before the two of them were ushered into a blank room with steel walls.

JD lay frighteningly still on a steel bed. Dried blood caked his hairline and his left eye had swollen shut completely.

Carla ran her fingers through his hair. "He's concussed," she said angrily, "I don't know what they expect us to do with nothing to treat him with."

"It doesn't matter right now, baby," Turk said soothingly, "I know you're scared for JD and for us and I am too, but right now we need to stick with the plan and get JD to wake up."

"JD, we need you to wake up, man," Turk breathed in his best friend's ear.

No response.

"Baby, he's concussed," Carla reminded him, "You'll have to do better than that."

And she dug a hand into his side.

"Whohoho!" JD spasamed awake. "What the- Turk? Carla? Ow! What?"

"Dude, shut up," said Turk, "We're gonna spring you but you really don't want to bring our little friend outside in here until we get the signal."

JD looked around the room, bewildered. "Spring me? Where are we? What happened? I was…"

JD shot up. "Delsin! Owww!"

"Easy, Bambi," said Carla, reaching out to steady him, "you've got a nasty concussion."

"Carla," JD croaked urgently, "Turk, we need to go get Delsin before it's too late."

"Who's Delsin?" Turk hissed in his wife's ear.

"Weren't you paying attention earlier?" his wife hissed back. "It's Reggie's brother."  
"He's not an it," JD said hotly, "he's a human being who they have no right to keep here. No right to dissect him like a lab rat! No right to torture him with those stupid-."

The door creaked open.

"You're right, Dr. Dorian," Celia said softly, "Which is why I need your help to save him."

* * *

Dr. Cox

"You know how to use that thing, right?" Barbie shot at him as they raced down the halls.

"Of course I do, Barbie," Dr. Cox shot back, "The problem starts when I try to survive with this pistol against an army of soldiers with machine guns, concrete powers and Kevlar vests."

"Both of you shut up," Reggie snapped, "He should be right…"

Reggie skidded to a halt, Elliot and Dr. Cox right behind him.

"What! What is it?" demanded Elliot.

"He's supposed to be in there," Reggie gulped, pointing at the single, solitary capsule in the center of the facility, visible from all angles of the middle ring of the facility. The capsule was completely bare.

"Well he's not here now, genius," said Dr. Cox, "Now what?"

"I don't know!" Reggie exploded. "He was supposed to be in there, now he's not and we have no way of finding him."

Dr. Cox was all ready to slap some sense into Reggie Rowe when he noticed Elliot's eyes glowing. Not in some romantic bull-crap way, but literally glowing.

"I sense smoke," said Elliot. She began to sprint down the hall. "Follow me!"

"Add it to the list of weird conduit powers we don't know of," Reggie muttered to Dr. Cox, and the two of them sprinted after her. The three descended down a long flight of stairs before reaching a large, open arena made of concrete.

"Cozy," Dr. Cox quipped, "Where to now, Miss Human Smoke Detector?"

Elliot pointed up at a balcony. "There."

Reggie gaped at the figure standing on the balcony. "Delsin? Oh thank God you're safe! Come on! We came to get you out of here! I'll explain who these people are later but right now-,"

"GAAAAHHHHHH!"

Dr. Cox tackled Reggie as a ball of smoke and fire left a gaping crater where the three of them once stood.

"What the hell, man!" Reggie demanded. "It's me!"

"Reggie, I don't think he knows that," said Dr. Cox, eyeing the boy standing on the balcony. The figure standing on the balcony matched every description Dr. Cox had been given of Delsin Rowe. The orange jumpsuit pants and white wife-beater shirt hung off the boy's skeletal frame. His red beanie sat lopsided on his raven-haired head. Delsin gripped at the railing, clenched knuckles white and raw. Bright, hazel eyes regarded the trio on the ground with fear.

"Something's wrong," said Reggie, "He doesn't recognize me."

"Oh, he recognizes you," said Dr. Cox, "It's who he recognizes you as that's the problem here. Hey you! Do you know who I am?"

The boy, Delsin, gulped. "Friends of _him?_"

"Eh, wrong," said Dr. Cox, taking a few cautious steps towards the balcony, "We're friends of _you_." He tapped his temple. "It hurts here, doesn't it?"

Delsin nodded slowly.

"That's okay, son," said Dr. Cox. He began climbing the stairs, "We're here to help you take that pain away."

Dr. Cox held his breath. He was mere inches away from Delsin when the boy let out a guttural scream. Dr. Cox almost fell flat on his face as his feet suddenly lost the ability to move. Looking down, he saw concrete growing up his foot, chaining him to the floor.

"Very good, Delsin," said a voice from behind them. A woman that Dr. Cox could only describe as 'Red-Haired Witch II', loomed from the shadows. "Now kill the intruders."

* * *

**Willoffire123: I'm baaaacckkk!**

**Augustine: Until next time.**


End file.
